In the field house Dan Farrell, the trainer, laid out the contents of his bags and the haunting odor of his own special liniment permeated the quarters. The call to change into togs came at half-past one and at a quarter to two they were all ready. Mr. Babcock and Mr. Hilliard and Mr. Connover ended their low-voiced conference in a corner and herded the players outside to the sunlit porch. It wasn’t one of the coaches, though, who spoke to them then. It was Captain Dave Lothrop, and partly because Dave never did say much and even now couldn’t find the right words, although he tried hard enough, his little speech got under their skins. He didn’t say anything new. Indeed, what is there new that may be said at such times? It has all been said over and over again, hundreds, thousands of times, since the first football team was formed. But Dave, floundering, seeking desperately for words, his eyes fixed on the barred field over yonder, managed to endow old sounds with a fresh meaning. “Coach says we can do it, fellows,” said Dave. “He’s not lying to us. Besides, I know, too. I know that if we think――if we just _say_ we can lick ’em――go out there and fight every minute, every second, just forgetting everything but beating Wolcott――why, I _know_ we can, fellows! We’ve got to fight, fight _hard_. Well, we can do it. We’ve got to fight harder than they fight. We can do that, too. I――I wouldn’t want to lead you fellows out there if I wasn’t certain right down to my boots that you meant to lick those guys. Think what it would be like to go back to Wyndham to-night beaten. We couldn’t face the School! Why, hang it, we’ve _got_ to win! That’s all there is to it. We’ve _got_ to win! And when you’ve got to do a thing, you――you”――Dave’s gaze came back from the gridiron and challenged them――“you do it, if you’re not yellow! Well, that’s all. Only”――Dave shot out a big fist――“tell me this. Are you going to fight? Are you going to _win_?” “_Yes!_” The reply was an explosion of pent-up emotions, a determined, defiant, exalted burst of sound that carried far across the sunlit field. “_Come on, then!_” said Dave.